


Fire In My Soul

by DefendTheUndefended



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, One Piece
Genre: Ace is Reborn, Ace is reborn as Reborn (KHR), F/F, F/M, M/M, Protective Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Reborn is not as brash as he makes people believe, Reincarnation, Secrets, but acts like he doesn't, he wants a family, he wants people around him, i dont know what else to tag, i dont want to spoil everything, missing people far away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:23:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefendTheUndefended/pseuds/DefendTheUndefended
Summary: There was more to Reborn than the others seemed to know. But no secrets can stay in the shadows forever, and someone's suffering will eventually be uncovered. No matter mow much the person wants it to stay hidden. When everything does come to light, the ones who value him will have to move carefully- less they loose Reborn to the claws of the shadows.(Ace is reborn as Reborn/Renato.)





	Fire In My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> (Ace is reborn as Reborn/Renato.)

1.) Cold Blood

He had always been a pretty....different child. 

He hadn’t had a name. Being born of a prostitute, and abandoned on the streets of Italy he was never given one. 

He remembered his life. His real life from before. As a great pirate, with an amazing little brother, a family so large they could practically be called an army, a position on the crew of the strongest man alive, the adopted son of a great man,.. and the bane of the world, just because he existed. 

In a way he missed it. He would prefer Oceans and winds a lot more than the stone and grime that now consisted of his daily life. 

But... no regrets. 

So instead of mourning what he lost, or pondering why he was reborn into a world much worse than the last, instead of going on to see the ones he loved, that had passed before him, he grinned..and bared it. 

He was good at it too. 

In no time at all he was ruling the little dark and dank backstreets of Italy. The streets where the gutter rats and swine of humanity took shelter, far far away from the beautiful farce face of ‘the city of love’. 

He became the most stealthy thief, the most talented pickpocket. The fastest. The best. 

He had to be. It was be the best at what you were good at, or be devoured by the dogs that lived alongside you. And being devoured wasn’t always just so plain and simple as being killed. It was sometimes a much much worse fate than death. 

Despite knowing this he had tried to help the others unfortunate enough to fall into the same situation as him. Stealing a little bit more bread. Defending the weaker ones against the dogs all too willing to make another victim out of their own species that they stalked and hunted like weak rabbits. 

He didn’t always succeed. 

He wasn’t as strong as he was before. The poor conditions, not allowing him to regain the strength he used to maintain. The ones he tried to help rejecting the help he so readily offered.   
When he failed, he felt so useless. 

He supposed this was his punishment for being a demon’s son, and making Luffy suffer so much. 

He started to ignore the others, only helping if they asked him of it, otherwise leaving them to survive on their own power. 

He’d been back-stabbed too many times by that point to try and care. 

As he grew older, he grew stronger. By the time he was 15 he was the only one left surviving from the original people he was thrown with as a small child. People filtered through those streets faster than knock-up steam. He was the only one who survived more than a decade. 

He knew he acted differently than he was supposed to, but it was the only way you survived on those streets. You never showed weakness. 

He built up a farce persona over his self. Not only to protect his real personality and mind, but his heart as well. 

He acted cocky. He acted indifferent to things that didn’t concern him directly. 

He lied his way through the engines on the street. 

On those roads, you had to view everyone as a neutral party. You couldn’t trust anyone. The only thing you could trust, was that anyone you spoke to would betray you. 

It was on those streets he built himself back up. 

He trained himself. Pushing aside the sorrow he felt at missing his family. Trying to go through this life and get trough it. After all since he was forever cut off from them there wasn’t much point of a purpose. 

So he went through his life in a ruthless manner.

He trained himself to be the best because he was bored. 

Stealing a gun and practicing with it, because it was something he was less skilled at using. Fasting a long pipe together to resemble his old one. Training himself to become stronger, faster, and better at hiding in the dark. 

By the time he was 19 he had gained a reputation. 

A reputation of an arrogant bastard that had claimed the title of the World’s Best Hitman. Having taken any jobs he could find, and eliminating the ones who were truly scum of the earth, such as rapists, child traffickers, and other people who committed other deeds just as bad. 

At some point in that time frame, he didn’t exactly remember when, he realized that it was too painful to be called by his old name by strangers instead of hearing it spoken from the mouths of those he loved. 

It hurt so much.

So instead he gave his made up persona a name. 

Renato. 

And as he did so, he buried Ace so deep, and locked him away behind the stone walls of his heart, to protect who he used to be. 

It hurt too much to act normal when nothing was no longer normal. When he had ruined everyone’s lives, and realized... he would never be able to face them. To face those he loved. 

Luffy, Sabo, Marco, Thatch, Dadan, Makino, Pops, Izo, Namur, Vista,..everyone else... even the old geezer. He couldn’t face any of them when he ruined their lives. Disappointed them. Made them suffer. 

Maybe... just maybe... this life would be a second chance. 

A second chance... to atone for his actions. 

To earn their forgiveness.


End file.
